


Lost and Found

by VividlyLost



Series: More Than My Programming [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angst, Emotional Abuse, Facing Death, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Healing, Loss, Oneshot, Physical Abuse, and all that good stuff, facing someone you thought was dead, not with simon, sfw, simon goes deviant, simon/reader - Freeform, simons a good boi, slowish burn, this one nearly kept going too like damn, yknow that gooood shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:06:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VividlyLost/pseuds/VividlyLost
Summary: Simon has been with you for a while, from awkward roommate to friend, but never an object.  When he deviates, it comes as a surprise, but a welcome one.  When you lose him, you feel like you've lost yourself.  And when you see him again on the news as part of the demonstration to free all androids you barely know how to react.





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so here's the thing, I LOVE this. I'm really happy with this one, I think Simon deserves more love and more character growth and I am powerless to stop myself from getting carried away. Which brings me to my next point. Right [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14984936/chapters/35986716) is a wonderful oneshot that my friend [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda) wrote for me based off of an angst prompt, only with a happy ending yknow. I beta read it for her and suggested some additions, and honestly her story inspired me to write my own version of it. 
> 
> I did make sure she was ok with me posting this as it is heavily inspired by her own fic. I loved the ideas in it, and followed it like a loose roadmap, so please make sure you read hers and give her credit! I hope you enjoy both of our oneshots!!

Simon.  He had been a gift from your parents for graduating college and getting a job.  The card you had stashed away with all the other cards you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away read “so you can focus on you and your job”, but if you were being honest it had been odd at first having Simon in your home.  It made you feel like you were back in college again, awkward roommate and all. The day you mentioned this to Simon you had found him organizing the cupboard you stored all your spices in at seven in the morning. The android had frozen, his LED spinning yellow for a moment, and then smiled at you retorting with “the term here would be housemate, of which I am not.”  You’d frowned at him for a moment, and when he turned back to continue what he was doing you started to laugh. 

 

“Maybe not, but y’know, maybe so.  You do live here Simon, you have your own space, and we do equal amounts of housework,” you stated searching for your travel mug to fill with coffee for work.  You were about to check the dishwasher when Simon handed you the mug, already filled. “Thanks.”

 

“We only do equal amounts of housework because you refuse to let me take care of it,”  Simon chided, making you grin. “And you’re welcome.” You set the coffee mug on the counter and rummaged for whatever leftovers looked like an appealing lunch.  At this point Simon had been with you for a few months and had learned to stop correcting you about his purpose as an android. The less he argued with you, as you put it, the more you relaxed around him and let him do as he pleased.  Which was usually sneaking in more chores so you didn’t have to worry about it. You knew that the less you let him do, the less useful he felt, it was the only thing that kept you from throwing a fit when you figured out he’d cleaned half the house before you had a chance to help.  

 

“By the way, I’ve got a gift for you,” you said, closing the fridge with your chosen lunch in hand.  “It’s on my dresser, I forgot to give it to you when I got home last night.” You glanced at Simon, revelling in his confused expression and tossed your lunch into a grocery bag.  

 

“Your lunch is very high in sodium and lacks many of the daily nutrients your body requires, ____.”  Despite his words he pulled your water bottle from the fridge and put it in the bag with your lunch. “Don’t forget to hydrate today, the high for the day is eighty four degrees.”  

 

“Yes dear,” you teased, voice dripping with sarcasm.  You picked up your lunch, your coffee, and your bag. “Don’t forget, room.  Present. I’ll be home later.” As you were closing the door you heard Simon say, “I can’t forget.”

 

He had wondered what was in the bag you’d brought in with you when you returned the night before, a little drunk from the birthday party you’d gone to after work.  Upon investigation he discovered it to be clothing, some jeans, a collared shirt, even socks and shoes. There were a couple of t-shirts in there as well. Simon stared at that bag for a long time, three hours to be exact.  Nothing in this bag held anything that would mark him as an android as his current uniform did, but the clothing was clearly too large for you. When he asked you about it that night you had shrugged and smiled at him, saying he deserved something of his own.  You even apologized for not knowing what he would like, saying you bought a variety just in case, but at least you hoped he would be comfortable. 

 

Simon was absolutely baffled, yet when you woke up the next morning he had changed into the plainest things from the batch he could find.

  
  


Androids were designed to adapt to the household they had been taken in to, so their owners could feel more at ease.  For the average android, that meant acting like an android, sounding like an android, living an existence of a machine.  For the androids like Simon, their owners treated them like people, talked to them like people. They apologized when they bumped into them, in your case Simon had once seen you apologize to a street pole before you realized it was nothing more than a street pole.  You had pointed at Simon and said, “not a word”, Simon had had the urge to laugh. Androids like Simon, whose homes were welcoming, tended to act a little more like the people their owners made them out to be. Of course it wasn’t like they truly became humans, there were always tells that gave them away, but that didn’t bother owners like you.  

 

You treated Simon like a person, like a human being, asking for his opinion, thanking him when he did something, teasing him and apologizing even when you had really done nothing wrong, please stop apologize for dropping your glass of juice on the carpet, no it’s fine just please be careful of the glass shards and let me clean it up, I swear I won’t make hot chocolate after dinner if you don’t just sit down for ten minutes- 

 

After nearly a year with Simon in your home you almost couldn’t picture life without him, as sarcastic as he had grown when you became obstinate, or his blunt remarks about the shows you watched that either had you giggling or scowling.  A year and he’d learned exactly how to let you bicker with him about how much icecream you were going to have after dinner and then shoot you down easily with an almost smug look of triumph. Only to hand you a bowl that was still a little more than you should have had.

 

You were quite happy with your life. 

 

Then you met Caleb.

 

Caleb was a friend of your coworker’s, he tagged along when a group of you went out for drinks and bowling.  He was cute, but he was loud. Caleb didn’t quite know when to shut up, and you learned that that often got him into trouble.  Which he was able to talk himself out of one way or another, usually. Somehow he talked you into a bet, if you could beat his score in the game then he agreed to foot your tab, if you didn’t then you had to go on a date with him.  

 

“CLICHE!!” you had shouted at him, but agreed nonetheless.

 

He won.  

 

“Did you just hustle me?” you asked accusingly.  Caleb laughed.

 

“Yea, I did, didn’t want to risk you saying no if I asked you out,” he admitted, grinning almost shyly.

 

“You are one big, walking, romcom trope, Caleb,” you said with a huff.  It was cute, though, you had to give him that. “Gotta say though, romcom tropes can be pretty off putting in real life though, but a bet’s a bet.”  You gave him your number to let you know when and where for the date and then left to pay your tab. When you found out he had already paid for it, you turned to find he’d already left.  “That cheeky mother fucker.”   
  
The date wasn’t that bad, Caleb actually seemed nervous when you walked up to him outside the theater.  Wordy as he was though, you found he was fun to talk to, and he made some A list jokes during horror films too.  So you asked him for a second date, and it went from there.

 

Simon was happy for you, or as happy for you as an android could be, you seemed happy so he was happy.  That didn’t stop him from subtly teasing you about your new relationship though. 

 

When Caleb swung by for dinner one night you introduced him to Simon.  Caleb regarded Simon with indifference, only asking why he was wearing normal clothing instead of his CyberLife uniform.  Your response had been blunt, Simon was your friend and you wanted him to be comfortable. Caleb just called you cute, and clapped Simon on the back.  

 

Simon didn’t seem to mind Caleb, not at first, not really.

 

He didn’t mind until he began to notice a change in your behaviour.  When he noticed the occasional look of worry that would cross your face, or the subtly growing way you acted quieter.  You were with Caleb for eight months before Simon noticed the changes, before they began to affect even the way you acted around him.  You didn’t act colder towards the android, but almost skittish, like you were afraid to upset him. 

 

You really liked Caleb, you did, you swore you loved him, and the way he made you feel, like you were wanted, needed, loved in return was intoxicating, something you hadn’t ever really had before.  The day Simon noticed that Caleb was using that against you, Caleb had come over to your place, angry over something that had happened that day, and then found out you hadn’t ordered the tickets for the concert yet.  His anger turned on you faster than lightening and all you did was apologize, a heartbreaking look of guilt on your face. Caleb’s anger didn’t lessen, he just told you to get on it, to pray that there were still tickets left.  You scrambled to get the tickets.. When Simon offered to take care of it, Caleb told him to be silent, you had said you were going to get them so you were going to get them. The relief that washed over your face when there were tickets left made the gears whirl in Simon’s mind.  

 

Caleb relaxed and asked what the two of you were having for dinner, changing gears now that he had what he wanted.  He nodded when you told him what you’d picked up, but the second you started to prepare for dinner he told you to sit down and let the android do it.  It’s what it was there for. Simon moved to do as he was ordered, waiting to hear you cut Caleb down as you had others before him for ordering Simon around.  You looked like you were about to, instead you looked at Simon and mouthed the words, “I’m sorry”. 

 

Something was wrong, and Simon didn’t like it.

 

The day Simon found the bruise on your ribs wasn’t even on purpose.  You hadn’t wanted Simon to find out, you felt bad for hiding it, you felt bad for getting in this position in the first place.  It was your fault, you’d been staying at Caleb’s for about a week, a trial run on if you wanted to move in with him, and you’d made him mad.  You’d dropped a glass when putting them away, it really was your fault, your hands were slippery, you should have dried them better, you should have taken more care.  You agreed when Caleb blamed you, and you’d told him you would clean it up, it just hadn’t been enough for him.

 

Simon saw the look of relief on your face when you closed the door behind you, when you locked it.  Then he saw you wince when you took a deep breath, tears filling your eyes. Immediately Simon went to your side, asking if you were ok.  You said you were fine, and he knew you were lying. When he pressed the issue you snapped at him, telling him to just leave you alone. You covered your mouth in horror, tears falling now.

 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, again and again.  You begged for Simon’s forgiveness, you hadn’t meant to snap, he was just worried about you.  When Simon reached for you, to pull you into a hug as he often did when you were upset you flinched back.  His eyes widened at the action and you looked away from him in shame. 

 

“Show me,” he said, as gently as he could, as something that he could only describe as anger filled his body.  It burned like fire and chilled him like ice. You lifted your shirt and the purple bruise that had bloomed across your ribs where Caleb had kicked you made Simon clench his teeth.  This wasn’t anger, this was rage. Gingerly he reached out to touch you, and with a miraculously calm voice he told you what he was doing so you wouldn’t be surprised. Nothing was broken, he could tell that much, but your ribs were bruised.  If the blow had been any harder they would have fractured. 

 

“What happened?” Simon asked, already guessing the answer.

 

“I dropped a glass, it was my fault, he’d already had a bad day,” you mumbled, excusing Caleb and blaming yourself.  “Don’t worry about me Simon.”

 

“You need to call the cops, you can’t go back to him!”  Simon’s insistent words made your head whip around to look at him.  There was so much emotion on his face, pain and anger and- You swallowed, shaking your head.

 

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you, I didn’t want you to worry.  I came home didn’t I? We don’t need to worry about it anymore,” you told him, putting a hand on his arm.  You wondered if being gone from Simon as long as you had had made you forget how expressive he had become. You wondered if this was new.

 

Simon relented, his protocols urging him to listen to you, though he did take you to the couch and got you to lay down so you could ice the bruise.  You thanked him.

 

Simon should have called the cops the second Caleb knocked on the door to your apartment a week later.  You wouldn’t let him, instead you stepped out of the apartment to talk to Caleb. You had a little of your old fire back, the days away from the human male doing you good to think things over.  Yet when you walked back into the apartment, Caleb came with you. You had decided to give him another chance.   
  
You reassured Simon that it was going to be ok, that you wouldn’t let it happen again and that everyone deserved second chances.  Simon wanted to argue with you, but when you said “don’t argue with me”, he couldn’t. He could only stew in this monsoon of emotion.  He was worried about you, and angry at you for putting yourself back in this man’s hands. He was angry for you. So he did what he could to make sure you were happy, to make sure you felt safe.

 

A month later Caleb made an off handed comment that you should get rid of Simon, upgrade to a newer model if you had to have an android in your house.  You admonished him for even suggesting such a thing, Simon was your friend and he wasn’t going anywhere. Caleb had sneered, but relented. 

 

True to his word, he didn’t hit you again, not that Simon saw or that you admitted to, but the psychological damage only seemed to grow, no matter how you tried to act normal at home.  

 

Then Caleb broke his promise.  You’d overslept after a long night, missing the lunch you had planned with Caleb.  You woke soon enough to the banging on your front door. When you opened it Caleb pushed inside, his anger boiling just beneath the surface as you tried to apologize for oversleeping.  

 

Simon exited the laundry room to ask if everything was all right, only for Caleb to point an accusatory finger at Simon.  

 

“Is this why you didn’t show up?  Huh? You’re fucking the god damn android aren’t you?!”

 

“No, Caleb, I swear I’m no-”

 

“Just fucking admit!”  Caleb was spitting mad and you took a step back from him.

 

“I can assure you she has done no such thing, Caleb, she merely overslept, an honest mistake,” Simon interjected.  He wanted to call the police, but he couldn’t without your permission. 

 

“No one fuckin asked you!” Caleb spat.  You looked at Simon and told him to let you handle it, that things were under control and to go back to what he was doing.  Simon didn’t move. Caleb had already forgotten Simon though, turning back to you with a sneer of contempt. You denied his accusations again, telling him that you would make up for missing lunch, only for him to back hand you, sending you stumbling a few steps backwards.  You only stayed upright because Simon had run to make sure you stayed standing. His eyes never left Caleb, and neither did yours. Caleb had broken his promise. The realization crossed both yours and Caleb’s face at the same time, your expression turning to one of horror and his to one of contempt.  He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

 

Immediately Simon locked the door and made you sit down, forcing you to look at him so he could assess the damage.

 

“Simon stop.”   
  
“No.”

 

“Simon please, I’m fine,” you insisted, pulling back only for him to grab your hands and keep you in place.

 

“No, you aren’t.  Now stop arguing with me and let me make sure you’re going to be ok,” he said sternly, a frown on his face.  You stopped fighting him, mouth open slightly as if your next words had died on the tip of your tongue. He turned your face to the side and looked over the area you had been hit.  Your eyes never left Simon’s face.

 

He didn’t.

 

He did.

 

“Simon? How - ow shit!” He had pressed gently on your the area near your eye.

 

“Sorry, let me get an ice pack.  Don’t move,” he said, ignoring the look of confusion and awe on your face.

 

He took the moment he had at the freezer to try to gather his thoughts and slow his racing thirium pump.  He didn’t even know how he had done it, hadn’t known it was possible. He just wanted to make sure you were alright, to keep you from getting yourself hurt, to not leave you alone with that  _ monster _ .  He’d disobeyed you, he’d ordered you to do or rather to not do something.  

 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself.  

 

When Simon sat down beside you and pressed the towel wrapped ice pack to your face you could only stare at him.  It felt like your eyes were picking apart his coding, as if you could see everything he was and wasn’t. It was disconcerting, it made Simon worried.  Then you smiled at him.

 

“Thank you,” you whispered.  “I don’t know how, but thank you, for being there for me.”  Simon breathed a sigh of relief.

  
  


The next couple of weeks were hard, you lied about what had happened to you in public and Simon had to act like a normal PL-600 model when the two of you went out.  The way you acted around Simon didn’t change, you treated him as you always had, but for Simon something did change. It wasn’t much, and yet it was a world of difference at the same time.  His reactions to things you said and did held that little piece of emotional realism he had previously lacked. Some of the things he said or did came from him rather than his coding, or your prompting; he worried over you openly, he had trouble keeping his new emotions from his face, and he sassed you when you tried to get out of doing the dishes you had begged him to let you handle the night before.  

 

You weren’t going to lie, you had always wished Simon was like this, and it made you ecstatic to see him like this now.  It was just, when you thought about why this change came about, you wanted to apologize to him and then curl into a ball in your bed.  How could Caleb have done this to you. WHY? Why did he do this? You loved him, you did your best to make him happy, to prove that you were worth his time, so why?  Why, why, why, why, WHY? You asked Simon one night, halfway into dinner one night. Simon didn’t have an answer for you, not one that would help.   
  
_ Because he’s a scumbag. _ __  
__  
__ Because he’s a monster.   
  
What Simon did tell you was that you shouldn’t worry about Caleb anymore, that he wasn’t worth your time or your love.  

  
  


Then Caleb found you outside of work, practically on his knees apologizing, begging for you back. It had been months since you had last seen him.  Your heart hurt to see him. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone, just like Simon suggested you do if you ever saw Caleb again. The other part of you wanted to curl up in his arms like you had many times before and hear him tell you that it was ok, that he loved you.  All you told him was that you couldn’t do this, not now, and left him to go home.    
  
You told Simon what had happened, what you did, and he swept you up into a tight hug.  You laughed, feeling validation in his reaction, feeling steel strengthen your spine at the thought that you were better without Caleb.  That you deserved better. 

 

You were safe here, with Simon you were safe.  It was something you never felt with Caleb, not over the year and a half of your turbulent relationship with him.  At first there was want and love, lust and comfort, and one by one those things warped and rotted. Here, you felt safe, and you felt loved.  

 

It was why you told Simon not to react if he saw Caleb again, if Caleb tried to do anything, if anyone tried to do anything. 

 

“Simon please, I can’t lose you, it would devastate me.  Please promise me you won’t do anything rash if something happens,” you pressed him one night during a commercial break of a show you’d begged him to watch with you.  He had rolled his eyes a little when you told him what it was, but he joined you happily on the couch anyway. Now he was frowning, his brow furrowed in a way that almost made him look a little irritated and a little sad.  You pushed your thumb between his eyebrows and his face relaxed. He shook his head a little at the oddness of what you had done but his LED settled from yellow to blue all the same. “Please Simon,” you prompted again. Simon sighed.

 

“Ok.  I promise,” you sighed in relief at his words, “I promise that you won’t lose me.”  Your smile soured and you narrowed your eyes at him.

 

“That’s not what I asked,” you said, sharply.

 

“No, but it’s what I’m willing to promise,” he said with a shrug.  He put his hands on either side of your face and squished your cheeks when you pouted at him, knowing he wouldn’t back down.  He had a hard enough time backing down before he’d gained freewill.

 

“Freewill makes you difficult,” you muttered through being squished and he laughed.  “Don’t change.” Simon’s smile softened and he tilted your head down, ignoring your protest of confusion, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.  All of your protests stopped in an instant.

 

“I promise.”

  
  


The day he broke his promise, the day you lost Simon, was the most painful day of your life.  

 

Not too long after Caleb had begged for you to take him back outside your work he came to your door again.  With Simon’s help, his gentle and sometimes teasing encouragement, you had healed, had started to put the pieces of yourself back together.  Because of Simon you didn’t feel a spike of fear, or pain, when you heard Caleb’s voice outside your door, but you did feel tired, and your heart did ache.  More importantly though, you felt in control, something Caleb had slowly worked away from you.

 

You opened the door and told him to leave, that he had no business at your home.  You had already given all of his things to his friend, your coworker, so there was nothing left for him here.  Caleb disagreed, saying you were here. He needed you. He hadn’t been the same without you, like his life was empty, like his soul was empty.  You were the light in his dark life, and he knew he could be better for you if you just let him. 

 

You told him that you didn’t want to be the one to fill that hole in his life, that you didn’t want to be in his life at all.  Simon had joined you, a hand on your back in silent support as you told Caleb you were done, for good.

 

The more you talked, the more irate Caleb became.  You were pitiful, choosing an android over him?! Disgusting!  Here he was, offering to take you back, to help your life become more fulfilling and you were refusing him over a plastic sex toy!

 

Your insides boiled at his words, and Simon saw your nostrils flare in anger.  He was glad you were standing up to Caleb, pushing him out of your life entirely, but he was afraid of what Caleb might do if his anger continued unchecked.  He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when you gave Caleb a curt farewell and moved to shut the door. 

 

Then the door, and you, were being knocked backwards.  Caleb had forced the door open. Quickly Simon stepped between Caleb and you.

 

“Leave before I call the police,” Simon warned him.  Caleb grabbed Simon by the front of his sweater, an old one from your school that was too big and you’d gifted him, and slammed him against a wall.   
  
“You plastic fuckin prick!  She should have gotten rid of you when I told her to.   _ I _ should have gotten rid of you,” he slammed his fist into Simon’s face before he could react.  You jumped up, pulling at Caleb, clawing at him in rage.   
  
“Leave him alone!  Leave him ALONE!” you screamed.  Caleb shoved you back, causing you to stumble on the rug by the door and fall, hitting your head on the ground with a sickening crack.  Simon’s fist connected with Caleb’s chin, but from his position there wasn’t much power behind it and it only served to make Caleb angrier.  He slammed Simon again causing the android to enter low power mode from damage sustained. Blue blood was trickling down Simon’s face. He looked at you, limp on the ground.   
  
“____, get up, please,” he begged.   
  
“____,” Caleb mocked.  “She doesn’t want me? Fine.  But she isn’t getting you either.”  Simon started to struggle against Caleb’s hold, but another fist to his face and his processing unit forced him to go into sleep mode to preserve power and slow the pump of his thirium.  He fought it, as hard as he could. He’d made a promise, he couldn’t -   
  
You stirred on the floor, eyes opening blearily, double vision focussing on Caleb pulling Simon from your apartment.  It took you a moment to put together what was happening, and when you did you lurched to your feet. Your balance was unsteady, and there was blood dripping into your eye making it hard to see, but still you raced after them.  You called Simon’s name, begging for help from anyone who would listen, but no one came. 

 

When you got outside they were gone.  You had missed them.

 

You screamed.

 

It was then that a passerby ran up to you, asking what was wrong.  They called the police, but it was too late. When the police picked up Caleb Simon was gone, and Caleb could only tell them he threw the android into the dump.  He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say which one.    
  
After being cleared by a medic, you went back inside, your soul barely soothed by the fact that Caleb was going to jail, but he was only going because he assaulted you, and stole from you.  Of course they wouldn’t count what he did as a kidnapping, as murder.

 

The next few days you called Simon tirelessly, each call reaching a dead end.  You refused to believe he was gone. He couldn’t be gone. He promised.

 

But the calls kept reaching a dead end, and each dead end call broke your heart a little more, until you stopped eating entirely.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


That had been months ago.   
  
Months of grief, and pain, and denial.  Months where you lost weight, lost time.  Months where you dragged yourself to work, a veritable zombie.

 

Your coworker apologized for Caleb, for not knowing what kind of person he was, but stopped when the look you gave them was of pure acid.  You wanted nothing to do with the demon who took Simon from you, because if you saw him again, one of you was going to end up dead. That’s what you told yourself anyway, even after you got the restraining order against him.  

 

Your parents had even offered to replace Simon, but when you turned the same acidic look on them as you had your coworker they dropped the issue entirely.  

 

It took you months to reach a point where you thought you could accept the fact that Simon was gone.  Accept the emptiness in your home, to stop sleeping in his room because it was as close as you were ever going to be to him again.  Months before you realized you’d managed to put on a few of those pounds you had lost from not eating. 

 

When you finally started sleeping in your own room again, when you’d gotten boxes to begin packing up Simon’s things, android deviations began to fill the news.  It was funny, you thought, you finally knew what to call what had happened to Simon...and you hated it. Freewill was not a deviation of the natural design, if it was then according to the religion you grew up with humans should have been classified as deviants too.  After all, they had gone against their original design too.   
  
It took you a couple weeks to get yourself to take a box into Simon’s room.  That was the day the leader of the androids aired the demands for android rights.  It sent a thrill through you to see it, that maybe in the future, what happened to you and Simon wouldn’t happen again.

 

You barely got through putting Simon’s clothes in a box before you let yourself get distracted, scouring the internet for any signs that the androids were going to be accepted as their own people.  The results weren’t looking good. It made you want to scream. So you did. You screamed into Simon’s pillow until your voice was hoarse. Then you stared at the ceiling until you fell asleep.   
  
By the time you managed to get through with packing up Simon’s room, the androids had taken to the streets.  You were out, picking up dinner when the march happened, a few streets away from the gunfire that went off and you felt your heart fly into your throat.  Fear rooting you in place. What could you do? Could you do anything? 

 

In the end you did nothing, you forced yourself to go home and turn on the news. The incident was replaying again and again on every news channel.  You were scanning the crowd of androids marching, eyes falling on every PL-600 model you saw and then flicking away quickly as if you weren’t searching for a particular one.  

 

Things escalated quickly after that, androids were being rounded up into camps and then without missing a beat a large, abandoned freighter was discovered to be housing the deviants.  The assault on it was devastating, and resulted in the ship blowing up from the inside and sinking. So many androids were killed in the attack, so many of them were shown dead or dying across the city, the camps, the ship, that you became physically ill.  There had to be something you could do. Right? 

 

An evacuation was announced for all humans in the city.  You couldn’t bring yourself to leave. The only thing you were afraid of was another human being with no moral compass to call their own.  You wouldn’t leave. It wasn’t that you had nowhere else to go, it was that you had nowhere else you wanted to go. Your self preservation only went so far now a days, and to leave your home, to leave the last remnants of...no, you were staying right here, as stubborn and thick headed as you chose to be, this was your decision.  

 

You didn’t get the chance to find out if there was any way to help before the androids set up their protest outside the camps.  The journalists, the camera crews, the helicopters that were flying around and filming everything live had you kneeling inches from your tv.  Praying to whatever deity or eldritch beast was out there that they would be ok. Fear kept you in your apartment, and shame sunk a stone deep into your stomach.  

 

For hours upon hours the news continued. And you watched it, bleary eyes barely staying open when exhaustion fought to claim you.  You lost the battle, but you awoke to the sounds of singing. You scrambled upright from the floor, your heart wrenching at how few of the androids were left.  As they sang the chopper overhead zeroed in on them and their song, a last stand. Your eyes burned and you whispered “please” over and over. 

 

Please let them live.  Please let this work. Please. Please. Please.

 

And then, miraculously, the soldiers stood down.  The androids had won. Relief cleared your eyes, but not your shame, and then you felt like someone ripped your heart from your chest.   
  
There, behind and just to the side of the leader of the deviants, was Simon.  

 

“Simon….?” you whispered, hands reaching up to clutch at the tv as if holding it would prove to you that what you were seeing was real. The camera switched back to the reporter and you scrambled for your phone on the counter before unlocking it. It couldn’t be, you thought Caleb had destroyed Simon and tossed him somewhere.

 

Your finger shook, hovering over Simon’s name in your phone.  You hadn’t been able to convince yourself to delete it, if only for the sole fact that deleting his number would have felt like you were truly giving up on him, deleting him from your life, and you just couldn't do that. You hit call, stepping in front of the TV while listening to the dial tone buzz away. 

 

One, two, three, four rings and you feared that it wasn't him, but the number was actually ringing, it was actually going through, and when the camera zooms back to the androids you felt the tears start to fall at that familiar almost irritated, almost sad furrow to his brow, the one he had developed not long before deviating.  The one he wore when he was stressed. It was his default expression eighty percent of the time when Caleb had been around, and it was the one he was wearing now. It deepened when the call was suddenly cut off and you felt something break inside of you.

 

He hung up on you. 

 

_ He hung up on you?! _

 

He'd been alive? Left your heart to break, left you to think he was dead, left you to believe it was your fault he'd died, and he was  _ ALIVE?   _ He had the audacity to hang up on you???

 

You’d finally managed to start moving on, and he was alive?  You mourned him! Grieved him! You loved him! “Fuck you! Goddammit you fucking mother fucker Simon!  Simon-” you voice caught on a sob and you collapsed further in on yourself. “Why, Simon?”

 

You didn’t move from the floor the rest of the night, the news switching from the camps being opened up to the president announcing that androids were their own species, their own people.  You didn’t sleep, you just laid there until the tears dried up and your phone battery read 5 percent from multiple failed calls. You laid there until the sun started coming up.

  
  


A week. For a solid week Simon avoided your calls.  You started to blame yourself, perhaps he hated you for what happened.  Maybe he hated you for not looking harder, for not protecting him in the first place, for not letting him call the cops that first time.  If you had just let him call the cops like he had wanted to when he found your ribs bruised Caleb wouldn’t have taken him from you. But then he would have been taken from you anyway for being an android when the revolution started.  You could have protected him. Would he have wanted that? You never made Simon stay, but you made him promise that you wouldn’t lose him, so were you just keeping him here? Could you have done more for him? Was this even your Simon that you were calling?  What if whatever damage Caleb did caused Simon to reset? What if he didn’t remember you?    
  
You had to know.  Simon hated it when you blamed yourself for things outside of your control.  So you had to go and talk to him, to learn the truth.   
  
You were barely eating again, the stress of your barely healed wound from losing Simon in the first place being ripped open made you sick to your stomach.  You ate what you could though, you needed to stay upright when you faced him….whoever he was now. 

 

The news channels had told you that the androids had been given a series of abandoned warehouses and buildings by the docks as a temporary place to stay until better lodgings could be provided.

 

Dressed for the cold weather, you walked all the way to the other side of town where the docks were.  With public transport still not running and most humans still absent from the city it was like walking through a dream.  One that could easily become a nightmare, and one that you were going to face regardless.

 

Lost in your own thoughts you didn’t realize you had reached your destination until an android waiting by the front of the building came up to you and asked what you were doing there.

 

“I’m looking for Simon.  He was a friend of mine before, before - um I wanted to make sure he was alright.  I don’t want to be a bother, really, I just was hoping I could see him, tell him how sorry I am...”

 

The android held up his hand to stem the stream of barely stable words coming from you.  Then he ushered you into the building and told you to take a seat, and that someone would be down to deal with you shortly.  Then he was gone. You were surprised they let you in, but you were relieved nonetheless..

 

After fifteen minutes sitting alone by the entrance you felt your heart drop.  What if there was more than one android named Simon? What if he didn’t go by that name anymore?  You hung your head in your hands. 

 

The sound of approaching footsteps made you tense, then you saw a pair of boots stop in front of you.  You looked up. This android looked familiar, like the woman who had stood next to Markus at the end. Her eyes were cold.

 

“What do you want with Simon?” the woman asked, glaring down at you.

 

“I just wanted to make sure he's ok. To tell him I'm sorry about....sorry for when....—” You deflated even more, and the woman huffed at your answer, staring down at you until you looked back down at the ground.  

 

“Get up,” she demands, “follow me.” You didn't have any other choice but to follow her through the building, passing rooms and hallways and many curious androids.  You were sure if you had tried to wander this place yourself you would have gotten lost trying to find Simon on your own.

 

“Simon! This human wants to see you!” the woman yelled, stopping in front of a door deep in the building. She forced the cracked door open the rest of the way, drawing your attention to her as she continued to talk.  “If they cause any trouble, they  _ will _ be dealt with,” the woman’s last words were a threat to you and you nodded in understanding before she made a noise of disbelief, and slammed the door behind her when you stumbled back into the room.  Now, with the door closed, you were acutely aware of where you were, turning to look at the man behind you.

 

It was Simon, standing equally as frozen as you were, his face drawn in surprise.

 

“Simon?” you asked, looking for any sign that he remembered you.  You didn’t even notice you were holding your breath until you saw pain cross his face.  Before you could catch yourself you stormed up to him, jabbing your finger against his chest in anger.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were alive?!!” you all but shout at Simon.  “After all this time thinking you were dead, grieving you! I blamed myself for everything, I didn’t eat for weeks.  I thought I didn’t...that I could pretend I didn’t miss you anymore, thought I had finally convinced myself I could move on, but then I saw you on my screen.  On the fucking news?!” You poked him with each accusatory statement. “You have no idea how it felt, like I’d lost part of myself! Fuck you!” Your hand clenched into a fist, your tirade had brought tears you thought were long since shed to the surface and you choked on a sob.  He was standing there, eyes glassy and mouth open, regret written on his face like a neon sign.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

 

“You  _ knew _ it was me, and you never answered!”  The side of your fist came to rest on Simon’s chest with barely any force, and he stood there, resignedly with his arms at his sides.  “I thought you were dead, and then you weren’t. All I wanted to do was apologize, I’ve missed you so much,” your voice cracked, the anger tempered by the fact that this  _ was _ Simon, he was real, alive, right in front of you.  It didn’t stop you from looking up at him accusingly, voice biting when you asked, “are you ok?  How did you survive?” He didn’t answer you. “Simon, answer me dammit!” You hit him weakly in the chest with the side of your fist.

  
You watched as his shoulders relaxed just a smidge and then he started to laugh.  Something akin to relief and regret toning the laughter.

 

“Why are you laughing?” you asked, voice pained.  “Simon-” you cut off when he pulled you close, arms wrapping around you in a hug that spoke volumes.  

 

“I hated myself for not being able to protect you...I didn't know what to even say to possibly make right what happened.  I wanted to come home but by the time I managed to get repaired I'd convinced myself you were better off without me,” his voice grew tight with shame.  “ Then Markus arrived, I couldn't just leave…” Simon fell silent for a minute, just holding you, and you dropped your forehead to his shoulder, waiting for him to continue speaking. 

 

“I saw you one day,” he said quietly,  “you were leaving the grocery store and you had too much junk food in your bags,”  Simon chuckled weakly, hugging you tighter. You couldn't say anything, your chest hurt too much to do anything but cling to him.  “All I wanted was to go to you but I…everything happened so fast. I thought, if we could do this, then I could come home, maybe it would make up for breaking my promise to you-”  He cut himself off, and you noticed he was shaking ever so slightly like he was barely keeping himself together.

 

You pulled back, cupping his face in your hands.  His cheeks were wet and his eyes searched your face.  Gently you pressed your thumb in between his eyebrows, forcing him to relax his face and he laughed again, it was shaky but relieved.  

 

“Just knowing you’re alive, knowing you aren’t mad at me, knowing that you wanted to come home, Simon that’s all you had to say,” you admonished him gently, smiling a watery smile.  He smiled back, then turned shame faced when you said, “I’m still mad at you for not telling me sooner, and for ignoring all of my calls,” though your voice held no anger or malice.

 

“All two hundred and thirty six of them.  I know. I’m sorry.” He wiped the tears from your face and led you to an old couch he had managed to scrounge up for his room.  You leaned into him like you used to at home. Home hadn’t felt like home with Simon gone, but here with him now, this felt like home.  

 

You leaned into Simon’s embrace, sitting in silence and trying to pretend that this wasn’t going to end.  When you finally spoke again, you turned your face up to look at him, his soft smile a balm to your heart.

 

“You said you wanted to come home,” you broached, tentatively.

 

“Yes.”

 

“But you’re free now, you don’t owe me anything, you don’t have to stay with me just because you feel obligated to.”  You watched as his smile pulled into a subtle frown. “You can do anything you want to.”

 

“And what, you think just because I can do anything I wouldn't want to do it with you?”  He sounded incredulous.

 

“Well...I….”  You didn’t know what to say, looking down at your hands.  Then suddenly you felt his lips on your forehead in a gentle kiss that made your heart jump.

 

“Wherever you are  _ is _ home,” he admitted quietly.  “No matter what you might think, that hasn’t changed.”  You hadn’t known that was how he felt in the first place, and it made your chest feel tight.  You leaned back to look up at him, eyes wide.

 

“Will you come home?” you asked.  Simon smiled at you.

 

“Soon, I promise.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Discarded stuff**

“You've lost weight.” he noted after a few minutes, finally noticing how little you really had eaten.  You huffed a breath, already knowing he would start monitoring your eating habits again if he could.

 

“And you lost my sweater,” you replied, smugly assuming you could change the topic.

 

“No, I didn't.  It's over there,” Simon teased, pointing it out on the table.  It looked like hell, but he still had it.

 

“Well shit,” you mumbled.  “It looks like its been through hell.”

 

“I have,” Simon said softly.  Your stomach twisted and you started to pull away from him.

 

“I...I'm sorry, Simon….” 

 

“Stop it, please.”  He tightened his arm around your shoulders to keep you close.  You looked up to see him looking at you eyes gentle but firm. “None of this is your fault, no matter what you think, I don't blame you for any of it.”  You remained silent, and when you still didn't respond you heard Simon sigh. 

 

“Do you really think I blame you?  That I could possibly be mad at you?”

 

“I...no...not when you put it like that, but…” you trailed off.

 

“But?” Simon prompted.

 

“Now that you're free, you have the whole world open to you...or you will soon at least.”  You spoke quietly, afraid to ask the one thing you wanted to know more than anything. 

 

“And what, you think just because I can do anything I wouldn't want to do it with you?”  He sounded incredulous.

 

“You don't owe me anything, I just want you to be happy,” you smiled up at him, wanting nothing more than to ask him to come back home.  “Where ever that takes you, even if it means you never come home, as long as you’re safe and happy, that’s what I care about.” It wasn’t a lie, but it hurt like one.  You’d wanted this for him for a long time, before Caleb, before you realized you’d fallen for your closest friend, and God himself would have to walk out of Hell before you did anything but support Simon.  The fact of the matter was, you didn’t want to lose him again, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

 

For a moment Simon didn’t respond, then he turned his head and kissed your forehead.  Your heart seemed to stop for a beat, and you forgot how to breathe.

 

“Wherever you are  _ is _ home,” he admitted quietly.  “Besides, how will you know I’m happy if I’m not around?”  He was teasing you again.

 

“Take your word for it?” you answered, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

 

“If you’re willing to take my word for whether or not I’m happy, then I guess you’ll have to take my word that I meant everything I’ve said since you walked in here.”  You made a face at Simon. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sequal to Lost and Found can be found here: [Simon Says](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151798/chapters/37738964).
> 
>  
> 
> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com)
> 
> And a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)
> 
>  


End file.
